


The Best Baker

by foryouandbits



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Future Fic, Jack and Bitty are thirsty for each other in formalwear, M/M, Sexual Content, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, trophy husband jack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-07
Packaged: 2019-09-13 20:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16899063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foryouandbits/pseuds/foryouandbits
Summary: It's Bitty's 25th birthday and he and his husband Jack attend the James Beard Gala Awards, where Bitty has been nominated for Best Baker. He's got everything he could ever want - his own bakery, a gorgeous husband who loves him, a beautiful custom made suit - everything apart from the award that would cement him as a real member of the food community.





	The Best Baker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [M801](https://archiveofourown.org/users/M801/gifts).



> From a prompt requesting a successful Bitty and Jack as a trophy husband. Hopefully I did the prompt justice!

This was not at all how Bitty envisioned his twenty-fifth birthday. Twenty-five wasn't one of those birthdays he daydreamed about as a child, not like sixteen, when he could finally drive a car, or eighteen, when he could leave Georgia behind, or even twenty-one, when he could go out and dance and drink if he wanted to. He did however, set twenty-five as his first milestone as an adult: he wanted a career, his own place to live, and maybe even a husband. What he did not envision as young Dicky Bittle was standing on a pedestal in New York City as someone tailored his custom made Tom Ford tuxedo in preparation for the James Beard Awards Gala as his husband looked on with a critical eye. None of this was expected, but this was his life, and he still had to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't still in Madison.

"What do you think?" Bitty asked apprehensively. This was the final fitting before they left for Chicago but the first time Jack had seen it, and Bitty felt unexpectedly nervous to wear it in front of Jack. This was more Jack's lane than his -- Jack was used to suits and spotlights as captain of the Providence Falconers. Bitty, on the other hand, was used to his apron. Jack, whose mother was forever linked to Versace from her modeling campaigns in the late eighties and early nineties, would be wearing one of their suits. Bitty wanted more color, something less fashion magazine and more gay style icon, so he chose Tom Ford, and Tom Ford delivered in spades. His pants and bow tie were black, his shirt crisp white, but his blazer was a work of art. While mostly burgundy, it had touches of galaxy green in swirls like a bath bomb, and it fit him like a glove. He thought it was gorgeous the moment he saw a color swatch but the final product gave him an overwhelming feeling of joy. This was what it was like to wear something that perfectly represented him, and it was the only thing he wanted to wear to an award ceremony that meant he had finally done it -- he was a respected member of the food community.

Jack looked at him with an unreadable expression on his face. Jack knew fashion because his mother knew fashion, and while he had been supportive of Bitty's choice to decline a Versace suit and go to Tom Ford instead, Bitty now felt nervous that this was the wrong decision. Jack's eyes drifted up and down his body, as if scanning him, and then nodded without changing his expression.

"Looks good," he said.

Bitty hid his disappointment. It didn't take three years of dating and two subsequent years of marriage to know that Jack was terrible at expressing how he truly felt about something, but Bitty had been hoping for more of a reaction than that. He tugged at the cuff of his shirt and turned back to the mirror to look at his reflection. If Jack said it looked good, it probably did, and Bitty didn't need his husband's eyes to know this jacket was beautiful.

"I think the fit is perfect," said Chelsea, the designer Bitty had commissioned for this suit. "How does it feel in the shoulders?"

"Good," said Bitty and he straightened his shoulders a little. Behind him he heard Jack shift in his chair.

"Great. You're happy with the bow tie? And the pocket square?"

The bow tie was satin, just like the lapel, and the pocket square matched the shirtsleeves that poked out at the cuffs. Bitty nodded; it added a classic touch which fit nicely with the shirt and pants, but he couldn't take his eyes off the jacket.

"I'll wrap this up and you can take it with you," said Chelsea. She helped Bitty remove the jacket; he was able to remove the rest on his own and changed back into his everyday jeans and button-down. Chelsea returned with the suit in a garment bag, which Jack took and slung over his shoulder.

"Thank you, Chelsea. This is exactly what I was looking for," said Bitty.

"You're so welcome. This was a fun one. Good luck on Monday, Mr. Bittle, and congratulations."

"I haven't won anything yet," said Bitty with his best attempt at a laugh.

"The James Beard award is a big deal," said Chelsea, "even if it's just a nomination. I think you're a shoe-in to win, though. I have your cookbook. I use it every time I want something sweet."

"Well thank you so much," said Bitty with a bright smile. He turned to Jack, who was smiling back at him. "See, honey, this is why I chose Tom Ford."

"You were right," said Jack, and Bitty rolled his eyes at Jack, who clearly was just humoring him.

"Are you going to the Gala as well, Mr…. I'm sorry, are you also Mr. Bittle or --?"

"He's still Jack Zimmermann," said Bitty with a pat on Jack's arm. "We talked about it before we got married but we agreed to keep our names. I thought about switching to Mr. Zimmermann but he still calls me Bittle, and it seemed a shame to give it up."

"Zimmermann," repeated Chelsea with a distant look in her eyes. Bitty waited for the moment of recognition, but didn't expect her to then say, "this might be a long shot, but you're not related to Alicia Zimmermann, are you?"

"That's my mom," said Jack.

"Oh, I adore her!" said Chelsea. "She was one of my favorites when I was a kid. I always wanted to be a model when I was younger but, you know." She gestured to her head, the top of which came just to Bitty's chin. "Not exactly blessed in the height department. You're not a model as well, are you? I'm sure I would have heard of you if you were."

"I play hockey," said Jack.

"Ah, right. Hockey," said Chelsea, but it was clear that hockey was not something she had the least bit of interest in. "Well, Mr. Bittle, it was wonderful to style you, and again, good luck."

"Thank you, Chelsea," said Bitty. Jack placed a hand on Bitty's lower back before Chelsea walked them out of the room and to the elevator. She and Bitty exchanged one final hug when the doors opened. Jack and Bitty entered and the doors shut, leaving them alone. Bitty turned to Jack. "Now see here, Mr. Zimmermann --"

Whatever Bitty had intended for Jack to see never materialized as Jack pressed Bitty up against the wall of the elevator and kissed him with such primal ferocity that every hair on Bitty's body began to stand on end. "God, Bits, you looked so sexy," Jack said into his mouth and Bitty couldn't control his smile, causing Jack to kiss his teeth when he dove in again. Bitty giggled but Jack was having none of it; he pulled Bitty close to him and kept kissing him, and now more than just Bitty's hair stood on end.

The elevator doors dinged and Jack quickly separated from him; they were only ten floors down. Three men entered wearing business suits, none as beautiful or colorful as the one slung over Jack's shoulder. They turned to face the door, paying no attention to Jack and Bitty. Jack took Bitty's hand. Bitty swallowed hard and surreptitiously adjusted himself, but Jack's eyes followed the motion and squeezed Bitty's hand tightly.

In less than a minute they arrived on the ground floor. Bitty headed toward the exit but Jack yanked him by the hand down a hallway. Jack pulled him into a unisex bathroom, locked the door behind him, carefully hanged the suit on a hook, then pushed Bitty up against a wall and sank onto his knees. Bitty bit down onto his hand to stifle a moan, but he was in Jack's mouth in an instant, and he had the translation of "Looks good" in Jack language.

 

***

 

The James Beard Awards Gala took place in Chicago just one day after Bitty's twenty-fifth birthday. While in terms of happiness he would have preferred that Jack and the Falconers were still in the playoffs rather than being eliminated in round one, that elimination meant Jack was able to accompany him to the weekend of parties and excellent cuisine, and most importantly, to the awards ceremony. Bitty had been nervous since their arrival, and no amount of "Your cookbook is a best seller!" or "People love your show!" could assuage the feeling that he was just a baker in Providence and Jack was really the successful one in the relationship.

They opted to rent an apartment for the weekend rather than stay in the recommended hotel; Bitty wanted a kitchen and Jack wanted privacy. The penthouse apartment was just a few blocks from the Lyric Opera where the ceremony would take place, so they had the ability to get ready with a full bathroom and a spacious bedroom while their favorite pie baked in the oven. "You don't have to make a pie, Bits," Jack had said an hour earlier when he entered the kitchen to find Bitty rolling dough on the island counter. "We're leaving tomorrow and you know we're going to stuff ourselves full at the after party."

"I just wanted something sweet for when we got back," said Bitty. Jack stepped up behind him and kissed him beneath the ear. "Mr. Zimmermann, what have I told you about distracting me while I'm baking?"

"I don't remember," said Jack and he kissed Bitty again, but Bitty shooed him away and Jack left with a laugh trailing in his wake. After Bitty finished the pie, he and Jack began to get ready for the ceremony. Bitty had yet to see what Jack was wearing but assumed from history it was just his usual Versace. When Jack exited the bathroom with his perfectly tailored black suit, a black shirt, and a tie and pocket square in the same black satin finish as the lapels of Bitty's jacket, Bitty had to stop attempting to secure his cuff and stare through the mirror, his eyes following Jack from the bathroom door, across the room, and out into the living room. Bitty glanced back at himself when Jack disappeared, specifically between his legs, but the fit wasn't so tight that Jack's affect on him was noticeable. Bitty gave up on his cufflink and trotted to the bedroom door.

Jack leaned against the counter, his eyes to the window, one of his legs crossed loosely over the other, a hand in his pocket and the other on a tall glass of water that he slowly tipped into his mouth. He glanced over at Bitty and lowered the glass, then wiped at his lower lip the back of his thumb. He had been shaving regularly since the end of the season but hadn't in the four days since they arrived in Chicago, and the result was a dark shadow across his cheeks. His hair was freshly cut, however, and he'd taken the time to style it with hair gel, something he usually didn't bother to do.

"You okay, Bits?" Jack asked. Bitty watched him closely and then there it was -- Jack betrayed himself with a small uptick of the right corner of his mouth.

"You are such a shit," said Bitty.

"What?" Jack asked, but he couldn't help his smile now that he'd been found out.

"You're out here posing! Look at you, having a tall drink of water with your hand all up in your pocket like you aren't the sexiest boy in the gosh darn universe."

Jack set the glass down on the island and stood upright. "Do I look okay? Is it too much black?" he asked.

" _ Do I look okay? _ " Bitty echoed incredulously. He turned back to the bedroom. "My beautiful husband wearing custom-made Versace and asking me if he looks okay. Lord!" Before Bitty could re-enter the bedroom, however, Jack caught him around the waist and held him tightly. Bitty sighed, his eyes closed, and ran his fingers along Jack's scratchy face. Jack gently kissed his cheek. "You look gorgeous, sweetpea. Everyone's going to be looking at you."

"I doubt it," whispered Jack in his ear. "This night is all about you."

Bitty scoffed, but forty-five minutes later they stepped onto a red carpet and Jack was proven to be right. It was apparent from the very first interview that no one in the food community knew Jack Zimmermann's name.

"Eric, are you nervous for tonight?" asked the first reporter. The microphone in his hand had the Food Network logo on it and Eric recognized him as a host of one of the baking shows Bitty appeared on as a guest judge a few months before his nomination.

"I'm incredibly nervous," said Bitty.

"You look fantastic, though. Who designed your jacket?"

"The suit is from Tom Ford," said Bitty before he gestured to Jack, who stood silently next to him. Looking at him was a mistake; in the flash of cameras and well crafted lighting, Jack looked every bit the son of a world-famous model. "And his is Versace."

"Who is this?" asked the reporter.

"This is my husband, Jack Zimmermann," said Bitty.

It was still weird to say in front of a microphone. They had been out for years and married for two, but even with all of the hoopla of their coming out after Jack's first Stanley Cup and the ensuing drama with Bitty's family, it was still freeing to be able to introduce Jack as his husband in front of a camera. The weirdest of all of this, however, was having to introduce Jack at all.

"And Jack, are you a baker too?"

"Oh not at all," said Jack. "Bitty's the baker in the family. I'm just along for the treats."

"What is it you do, then?"

"I play hockey," said Jack simply.

"That's a gross understatement. Jack is the captain of the Providence Falconers. The NHL team," Bitty added when the reporter seemed just as clueless as Chelsea had been. He recovered smoothly by saying good luck and congratulations, and Bitty moved forward. He tightened his grip on Jack and pulled him close.

"Thanks for being here," said Bitty. Jack kissed his temple and they kept walking.

It continued down the line. Jack was complimented on his suit almost as much as Bitty's blazer, introduced again and again just as Bitty's husband, until they reached the very end of the line near the entrance to the theater. Bitty was stopped a final time and asked to pose by himself for photos. As soon as he could, he pulled Jack by his side. Every time Bitty looked up at Jack, he couldn't help the flutter in his heart.

"Who is this?" Bitty was asked yet again by the final reporter in the line.

"This is my husband Jack Zimmermann," said Bitty.

"Zimmern? Jack, are you related to Andrew Zimmern?"

Bitty quickly shook his head. "No, Zimmermann. Jack Zimmermann. He plays for the Providence Falconers."

Once again the clarification was not anywhere near a clarification, so Bitty decided to give it up and waited for his next question. "Eric, you're nominated for Best Baker tonight. Tell us about your bakery back home."

"It's really just a small place," said Bitty. He felt Jack's hand on his back and it brought a smile to his lips. "I've had it for about three years now and it brings together everything I love and, most importantly, it's not far from him when he's home." Bitty glanced back at Jack and Jack smiled at him.

"Now if I've heard correctly, your bakery has a drive thru window. Is that right?"

Bitty laughed and Jack gently rubbed his back. "It does!" Bitty replied. "You know, sometimes you've had a hard day and you really just need a slice of pie or a piece of cake. We don't discriminate at Pie Thru -- if you need chocolate cake, you get chocolate cake. If you miss home and want a slice of peach pie, I've got one warm and ready for you."

"And does Jack ever help you at the bakery?"

Jack stepped forward. "No, I leave the baking to the professionals," said Jack.

"There's nothing wrong with just eating the results. Eric, good luck tonight."

"Thank you," said Bitty, and he and Jack entered the theater. Bitty pulled Jack away from the rest of the line. "You don't have to be so modest, sweetpea. You're a great baker."

"I'm nowhere near your level, Bits," said Jack, and he kissed Bitty's forehead. "Come on, I heard dinner is going to be amazing."

Dinner was indeed amazing; the James Beard Foundation Awards celebrated the best of the culinary world, so the four courses including dessert was one of the best meals Bitty had ever had. He and Jack sat at a table with two of the other baking nominees, both of whom Bitty felt very much in awe of as soon as they sat down. Olivia Osorio and her husband Phillip owned a bakery in Atlanta that Bitty remembered from when he was a kid, and this was her second nomination. John Dybas owned a deli in Philadelphia and was known for his bread and bagels. Both of them were at least thirty years older than Bitty, but upon sitting down with Jack, Olivia immediately commented that her daughter watched Bitty's Youtube channel when she was in college.

"She told me to tell you she's a big fan," said Olivia. "She watched your channel until you opened your bakery, and she's been bugging me for years to take a trip up north to check it out."

"Oh wow, thank you," said Bitty. "You know I've been going to your bakery since I was a kid, right? I fell in love with your peach cobbler. It's still the best peach cobbler I've had to this day."

"Thank you," said Olivia. "Is this your husband?"

"Yes, this is Jack," said Bitty.

"Oh, Jack? Jack from across the hall, Jack?" Olivia asked.

"The very one," said Jack with a smile.

"That's adorable," said Olivia. Bitty looked at Jack to make a comment, but Jack beat him to it.

"Yes he is," said Jack.

The presence of a childhood favorite and a longtime bread baker did not help Bitty's nerves. Once dinner was over and they headed to their seats in the theater, Bitty gripped tightly to Jack's hand. "There's no way," Bitty whispered to him, as low as his voice could go in a room full of chatter. "These people have been baking longer than me. Before I was born. Before my parents even met. There's no way I can win this, Jack."

"Calm down, Bits," said Jack. "You were nominated for a reason. I don't care how long Olivia's been making peach cobbler -- I have never eaten anything better than your apple pie."

"Lord, I'm so nervous," said Bitty.

The Best Baker award was the second of the night, so at the very least Bitty did not have to fret for long. Bitty recognized Anna Olson as soon as she stepped onstage and tensed at the sight of her. He grabbed tightly to Jack's hand when she began speaking. Jack leaned over and kissed him, which helped for only a moment, before Anna read the names of the six nominees, including  _ Eric Bittle, Pie Thru, Providence, Rhode Island. _

"The award for Best Baker goes to Eric Bittle," said Anna and two tears fell out of Bitty's eyes as soon as he heard his name. Jack's hands were on him, standing him up, but Bitty felt spineless and wobbly, in a fog where one of the most famous bakers in the world said he was the best baker instead.

"Bits, go up there," Jack said to him.

"Oh my God, Jack," Bitty said.

"I know, bud. Go up there. Say thank you."

"Jack!" said Bitty and Jack just kissed him before giving Bitty a push. Bitty wiped his eyes and headed down the aisle toward the stage. Anna draped a medal over his neck and he shook her hand before he stepped up to the microphone. "Oh Lord, this is completely unexpected. Thank you so much for considering me at all. I'm just a kid from Georgia who liked to bake with his Mama. Mama, thank you for giving me this passion. And my husband, Jack. Jack, thank you for your love, and your patience, and for wearing that suit tonight." Bitty smiled at the laugh from the crowd, said thank you one more time, and then left the stage, connecting eyes once more with Jack as he did. Jack stopped clapping long enough to blow him a kiss. The medal around his neck was nothing compared to the man in that seat; Jack was his, was there for him, and Bitty had not done enough to thank him. Bitty gave him a half wave before he disappeared behind the curtain.

 

***

 

Neither Bitty nor Jack wanted to stay long at any after parties. Although Bitty had been invited to several of them upon winning his award, he chose to attend the one closest to the apartment, stayed for a drink and some small talk, and then sneaked back out into the warm Chicago air before midnight. Once away from the crowd near the door, Jack pulled Bitty close against him.

They turned onto the bridge that led back to the apartment, but Bitty stopped them halfway to look at the river and Chicago's skyline beyond it. Chicago was not a place where Bitty had spent much time, but the city was beautiful, clean with recognizable landmarks everywhere he turned. Bitty had no desire to look at these, however, and instead turned to his husband, who leaned against the railing of the bridge, facing the water. Even after a long night, he still looked as magnificent as the moment he emerged from the bathroom with his suit on.

"I'm so proud of you," Jack said, his pale eyes shining with city light.

"Jack, I won this because of you," Bitty replied.

"I think you won this because you're a great baker," said Jack.

"No. I'm a great baker because of you. I'm everything I am because of you."

"Bits," whispered Jack. Bitty stepped closer to him and tilted his head back for a kiss, which Jack gently provided. Bitty touched his hands to Jack's chest and quickly wrapped his fingers around Jack's soft lapels. It didn't matter that he wore a medal around his neck, that people lined up to congratulate him, that there were promises of phone calls and meetings that would further his career. It didn't matter that he was lauded by a community he so desperately wanted to be a part of, or that he was the center of attention for once, and nobody knew Jack's name. That was over and on the bridge in the middle of this city he stood kissing his husband while time ticked away and they didn't care, because now they could celebrate together, now they could be Jack and Bitty, and soon the expensive clothes would be shed and they'd be alone.

Bitty pulled away first, sinking back down onto his heels and letting go of Jack's lips. Jack straightened out but kept his fingers on Bitty's skin, touching his cheek, his jaw, his hair.

"Let's go," Bitty whispered, and Jack nodded. They turned, still touching, and walked quickly, the tranquility lost, the urgency to be home increasing. Jack’s touch remained constant but innocent until they reached the elevator at the apartment. They were alone but a security camera pointed right at them. Bitty’s skin hummed in anticipation as he stared at the floor indicator, and then jumped when he felt Jack shuffle closer to him and place a hand on his ass, right in the center. He set his jaw, willing the indicator to go faster, cursing his own desire for a penthouse apartment rather than something closer to the ground. Jack’s middle finger pressed into the cleft between his legs. He was going to die before they reached the top floor.   
  
The elevator dinged and Bitty said "Oh thank God" as he rushed out and down the hallway, Jack hot on his tail. He pulled the key out of the interior pocket of his blazer and unlocked the door, and they exploded inside. Bitty shed the blazer in a second and placed it gently on the back of the closest chair before he began to rip off the rest of his clothes. He turned to face Jack, who was half out of his jacket.   
  
"No," said Bitty.   
  
"No?" asked Jack.   
  
"Keep it on."   
  
A breathy laugh escaped Jack’s lips but he adjusted the jacket on his shoulders, smoothed his hair, and unzipped his fly while Bitty desperately shed everything else he had on. Bitty was naked by the time Jack took himself out of his slacks.   
  
"Where?" Jack asked.   
  
"Wherever’s closest," said Bitty. Jack scanned the room for just a moment before he let go of himself, turned Bitty by the shoulders, and pushed him against the island. It was too high to bend over so Bitty braced himself against it, planted his feet, and waited. Jack was quick, touching him between the legs with slick fingers within seconds. He didn’t need much time or preparation, having wanted this since the moment Jack got dressed, so it wasn't long before Jack pushed into him and he gripped the counter with one hand and himself with the other, bucking back at Jack with each thrust.   
  
It didn’t last long, neither of them, but it didn’t matter -- by the time they both came they were panting heavily, exhausted, but full of giggles and soft touches. Jack rested against Bitty, breathing into his shoulder, the fabric of his suit caressing Bitty’s flushed skin.   
  
"I love you," Jack whispered into Bitty’s ear. Bitty turned his head to kiss him, just briefly.   
  
"I love you, sweetpea."   
  
"You okay? The couch was too far away."   
  
Bitty giggled and nodded. Jack carefully separated from him and they stood upright. Jack tucked himself back into his pants and Bitty began to pick up his discarded clothes. They walked to the bedroom and Bitty threw the clothes at his suitcase before he got into the bed. He looked to Jack for a final view of him in his suit, but Jack wasn’t there.   
  
"Jack?" Bitty called.   
  
"One second, I forgot something!"   
  
Bitty frowned; he was looking forward to post-coital cuddles but couldn’t have them alone. He sat up and stared at the door, and then Jack appeared, holding a cupcake on a plate with a single lit candle on it.   
  
"Happy birthday, Bits," he said from the doorway.   
  
Bitty’s heart swelled and he felt the emotion of it rise into his throat. He couldn’t speak. He attempted to smile but it felt more like a grimace, but Jack just beamed at him, illuminated by the candle in such a way that made him even more perfect than he was.   
  
"Hun," was all Bitty could say.   
  
"Do you want me to sing?" Jack asked and Bitty laughed but shook his head. "Good." Jack entered the room and sat at Bitty’s feet. Bitty looked at the cupcake -- chocolate topped with a swirl of pale pink frosting and what appeared to be sweetpea petals created from gumpaste, impressive and clearly handmade.   
  
"Did you make this?" Bitty asked, breathless. Jack nodded, suddenly looking sheepish. "This is beautiful! When did you have time to do this?"   
  
"Today while you were doing interviews."   
  
"Jack," said Bitty but couldn’t say anything more. He put his hand over his mouth and stared at the cupcake until his eyes filled with tears. Then he smacked Jack on the arm and blinked them away.   
  
"What?" Jack asked incredulously.   
  
"You spent all night telling people you can’t bake and look at this cupcake!"   
  
"Tonight wasn’t about me, Bits. Tonight was about you. If it were up to me every night would be about you. I didn’t want people asking me questions about helping you. I wanted them to know that you are wonderful and I’m just your husband."   
  
"Jack, you are so much more than just my husband," said Bitty, but Jack just shrugged his shoulders. "This is perfect, sweetpea."   
  
"Make a wish," Jack whispered. Bitty looked at the lit candle and couldn’t, because there was nothing left to want.

**Author's Note:**

> [Here's Bitty's suit,](https://i1.adis.ws/i/tom_ford/SS18_MENS_LOOK_26.jpg?%24collectiongrid%24) from Tom Ford's Spring/Summer 2018 collection. 
> 
> Stop by my [tumblr](http://foryouandbits.tumblr.com/) and say hi!


End file.
